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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779897">The Vacuous Spider</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParodiaTheSilent/pseuds/ParodiaTheSilent'>ParodiaTheSilent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodborne (Video Game), Parahumans Series - Wildbow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Horror, Gen, Insight, Standard Bloodborne Things, Standard Worm Things, Unreliable Narrator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:00:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParodiaTheSilent/pseuds/ParodiaTheSilent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor becomes a being of great Insight and impenetrable veils.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 0.1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note: I am taking deliberate liberties with Bloodborne— most especially with Rom</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>&lt; Conditions met &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Connecting... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Connection failed. Reestablishing link... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Link established. Synchronizing... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; [Error] Interference detected &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Running diagnostics... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Diagnostic [Error]:   -͜͠҉̴"̶͝͠`̨'̷̶̡͢-̕͠͝_͏*̴͢  &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Results contain incompatible data. Results archived for later analysis&gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Observation: Host parameters outside predictions. Querying {Hub} &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; ... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; ... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; No response. Querying Thinker{Hub} &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Thinker{Hub} unroutable. Plotting [Path]... &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; [Path]: Continue observation of Host[State] until Connection possible &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Her mind was growing rapidly, expanding ever outwards, gaining depth, and <em>returning to the way it should be.</em> She could feel the soothing weight of the ocean— of <em><strong>Kos</strong></em>, her mother— distantly, but there all the same and she <em>yearned </em>to be closer still.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>(She couldn’t scream— could hardly breathe— as she shattered. As eyes grew beneath her flesh, as spindly legs sprouted from her back, as ten tails anchored themselves at the small of her back, as pumice-like meat grew over her face and it obscured all but her mouth— and from that grew more eyes. Her sight reached too far beyond what she could handle and she was broken again, her mind akin to dust on the wind. Still, even as infection and her own blood were purged from her body, even as something thicker and unknowable took root, she clung to life.)</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her greater mind was thriving as it grew deeper and she felt the brush of her children once more. With her eyes, blessed eyes— her <em>Insight</em>— pointed inwards she sees <em>It</em>. A mind that is the entirety of its body— a mind that is old but so very <em>young</em>— constantly, endlessly searching for answers, a mindless curiosity at the center of its being. She wanted it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She bid it <span class="u">Greetings</span>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>(There were dozens, hundreds of minds connected to hers. Praising her, worshipping her, begging her, cursing her. She couldn’t bear it— to hear their blandishments, to receive their adulation. She searched for an escape for freedom and found </em>It<em>. It was as if she was gazing upon a lighthouse in the distance— that promise she would safe if only she could reach it. It was cold, unfeeling, </em>untouchable<em>, and if she could be like that then maybe her heart would stop hurting. Maybe she would stop yearning for those halcyon days that would never return. She wanted it— more than anything.)</em></p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>G̷͚̏̽͜r̵͓͉͊ë̷̡́e̴͕̟͐t̸͖̝͐̈́ï̶̲̖n̴͎̠͐̎ĝ̴̬̓s̶̮̞̓͝</strong>
  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u">[<strong>co̷̖̅m̸͇̽m̷̮̈́u̸̬̬̔n̴͈̔͝ỉ̶͍ö̸͚͉n̷̝͆</strong>?]</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Translating… &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; [Greetings] received through anomalous connection &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Query[Communion] received through anomalous Host connection &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Observation: Anomalous connection displays no signs of physical or technological source &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Archival: Anomalous connection assigned temporary designation {Void} &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Observation: Both {Void} and Host broadcasts indicate confluent thought processes &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Speculation: {Void} is cause of abnormal Host[State] &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Inability to identify {Void} source precludes attempts to— &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Warning: Host[State] rapidly deteriorating. {Void}[State] deteriorating. Connection deteriorating &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; [Path]: Merge {Void} and Host personalities. Use connection to stabilize resulting Host[State] &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Risk to {self}: Minimal. Risk to Host: Moderate. Risk to {Void}: Unknown &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Risk within acceptable boundaries. [Path] selected &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>&lt; Broadcasting… &gt;</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>[CONNECTION]</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>She stared at her reflection placidly. She’d hidden her more abnormal features beneath her veil— the same bit of arcane mastery that had allowed her to keep the lesser amygdala from sight— but there were still signs of her transformation. Her skin had taken on a sickly, almost moon-like, pallor while her eyes had gone from their old vibrant green to the almost gray color of sage. The sent of sea salt clung to her. Her expression was unchanging, frozen in place as the look of one eternally bored.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But these were minimal issues— cosmetic changes. Even if she couldn’t hide them the same way she had with the remnants of her old body, they could be ignored as a whole. What troubled her was her name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was as much Taylor Hebert as she was Rom. As much the Byrgenwerth Spider as she was the daughter of Daniel Hebert. She felt as if she couldn’t use either name then it was only fitting that she chose a different one, wasn’t it?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Rom, she was in no state to remake herself but this was a perfect opportunity— a convergence of personalities so it was only right that she took from both.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It came to her mind quickly. The only feature of her old that was missing— truly missing— was the coldblood flowers that had grown from her back. They’d meant as close to nothing to her but that was all the better. A convergence of personalities, named for missing things which meant everything and nothing to them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She studied her reflection before bringing her hands to her face, prodding and smoothing and caressing her features into a beatific smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yes, <em>this</em> was the expression that suited ‘Rose’.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Eye 1.1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Eye 1.1</span>
  </span>
</p><p>Rose shut her notebook, impatient. Her patience had grown since that day some weeks ago, but Gladly was coming close to testing it. She had so many, many things to do— so much lost time and so much ignorance to make up for— and time spent in the mockery of an academy that was Winslow was wasted.</p><p>She could tolerate the rest of her teachers, even if their subjects lent nothing to her goals because even relatively useless knowledge was knowledge. Gladly was <em>worthless</em>. The world was full of maggots, gnawing on its fetid, rotting flesh. Gladly was less than even that— a midge or a louse perhaps. A thing that was barely worth a thought and an irritation when it was.</p><p>(In truth, these words were false— an affectation of her Taylor-self's old contempt. Gladly wasn't even an irritation to her. He was background noise— a stain on an off-white wall that she'd long since grown used to. He spent so much time warping himself to gain the admiration of his students, there likely was not a singular bit of his personality that was authentic. He was certainly undeserving of 'personhood'.)</p><p>The bell rang. Rose collected her items and ignored Julia as she oh so subtly stole some of her work. She stood and began to walk. Gladly called for her attention. She ignored him and left. He didn't bother to follow.</p><p>Simple and easy. All things of no consequence brushed aside.</p><p>She stepped into the hall, her pace ponderous as she moved, the scent of sea brine trailing behind her. It was a brief respite before she was approached by Emma and her ilk once again. Of course, Emma does not matter. The brattish gaggle of children around her does not matter. The only one of any import is Hess.</p><p>There was a fear in Emma's eyes that Rose never would've seen when she was Taylor. It was a fear that gnawed at Emma's very being. Every action she took seemed to be in response to this fear; whether it was to escape or because it controlled her was unknown.</p><p>Hess was a thing in a similar state but where Emma's fear was carving furrows from her brain, Hess' had become a part of her. It was a fear that fed into malice— fear and malice being <em>cultured</em> into an overarching aggression and desire for conflict. And Rose could see <em>It</em>, glittering like stripes of constellations across the black <em>Cosmos</em>, suckling on old wounds of the mind, providing power in turn, and <em>watching</em>.</p><p>Sophia was a parahuman.</p><p>When Rose had discovered the fact she had felt such <em>fury</em>. Not because Hess had obviously lauded such power over her but because the <strong><em>Royal Overseer</em></strong> had confirmed it and then <em>refused to explain</em>. The general discontent remained but she had calmed quickly enough. Was she not <em>Kin</em>? She was curious, so she wished to know and therefore she <em>would</em> know. And with Hess as the parahuman subject in question? Perhaps her strength lied in the perusal of written knowledge, but if she had to scrape about the girl's skull to learn more she'd do it gladly.</p><p>And so, even as she stared at Emma— even as she was pushed and belittled— her Eyes remained trained on Hess, drinking in new Insights.</p><p>She could hardly wait for her time to come.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>'— pumice-like was an incorrect descriptor. Ossified is more accurate. The heads of myself and my children bear the Eyes that echo the vast emptiness of the Sea. A great, yawning void to fill with naught but the deepest Insight. And I find I wish to expand further, to become greater than I am. What better place to start the Cosmos?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>However, my children seem entirely incapable and while I have some talent for the arcane, I am similarly so— though, whether that is due to the state I had been in the last time I had partaken in combat or not is unknown. I find myself recalling an example of similar incapability.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>One of the Choir's secret rites: A Call Beyond.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The rite was a phantasm meant to be a conduit to the outer reaches of the Cosmos. It failed but what was created was useful enough— a slug filled marked with nebulae and releasing a flurry of stars. The caveat was that without sufficient knowledge of th arcane, you could hardly get it to react.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thus begins my dilemma. There is nothing for me to study. There is no Byrgenwerth, no Healing Church, and without a hint of Ebrietas herself, I am forced to do these things myself. It does not displease me but the way I must go about finding my answers is problematic.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My children are many, but their individual might is lacking. They are mere portions of myself— but if I could give them Eyes of their own? Make them entities unto themselves? Make them </em>
  <em>truly</em>
  <em> my children? Would I have to become a Great One myself— an entity formed of its own children?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The </em>
  <strong>
    <em>Royal Overseer</em>
  </strong>
  <em> is interested or wary— I can not see which— but whether they can provide any assistance is unknown. Pursuing the Cosmos, there is one fact I remember:</em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>
      <em>The Sky and Cosmos are One</em>
    </span>
  </span>
  <em>.'</em>
</p><hr/><p>Rose sat at the computer, scrolling through PHO on a guest account.</p><p>Dinner had been a calm affair but her father had spent the entirety of it throwing queer looks towards her. She had not been particularly subtle attempting to check her reflection and he had gotten a good laugh about it.</p><p>PHO was an indulgence. The speculation on the powers of particular parahumans—particularly those in Brockton Bay— was useful in some manner but ultimately pointless. She had no real desire to participate in combat with parahumans and given how thoroughly that Moon-scented <em>Hunter</em> had killed her two bodies in Yharnam, she would be training a lot more before she put herself at risk in such a fashion.</p><p>Conspiracy theories were either entirely implausible or likely enough that it was a distinct possibility they had originated from groups deliberately attempting to hide themselves by releasing information in such a way.</p><p>Still, she continued moving through the forums and found a new source of amusement in the account 'All_Seeing_Eye'. The name was funny and then she began to follow the account's history and found enough insights that it began to become distinctly <em>un</em>funny.</p><p>Then an idea came to her; she had needed more Eyes, had she not?</p><p>She created an account and began tentative contact.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Note: I'll be attempting to make an update schedule: once every two weeks. If I do not post on time, I will deliberately make the chapter longer than intended, as recompense.</strong>
</p>
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